Without a Word
by MyFairJenni
Summary: A series that alternates view points with a chapter per episode, dedicated to the thoughts and feelings of Foyle and Sam. T because I don't know what else to rate it.
1. Among the Few

A/N: I've recently gotten myself obsessed with Foyles War, and the relationship between Foyle and Sam. This particular series will be episode by episode, and as an extra challenge to me I shall attempt to use no dialogue what so ever! Oh boy! I'll try to write each chapter as I go through the series, and each chapter should have between three to four parts, most chapters focusing on a character's point of view through that episode segmented into parts.

Also: I have no beta, so please point out any and all mistakes! Especially one I might have with canon, I am rather new to this fandom...

Comments will be loved!

**Among the Few**

Sam was asking to go 'undercover' again, that in itself was no surprise, if Sam though an action on her part would help she would become determined to follow through said action. No, the real surprise to Foyle was why it was so difficult for him to sanction such an action. Going undercover during these type of situations was not uncommon, in fact it couldn't have been more plain that this was the right course of action, and Sam the right candidate. And yet Foyle wasn't quite sure why he had such strong objections to this plan, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know, but in the end it came down to Sam's stubborn attitude and the fact that Foyle had no true objections other than this personal problem. So that was that. Sam was given her papers and Foyle tried to stave away the worry that plagued him. All he could hope was that Sam would keep those sharp wits about her, and not get herself into too much trouble...

When Foyle had learned that Andrew had stood up to the man who had been harassing Sam he couldn't have been more proud, and never before has a father lived so vicariously through their son. Foyle was normally a very cool and collected person, some might even go so far as to say hard, so why was he so uncharacteristicly on edge because of this case? Surely he had better control of his emotions then his hormonal son? But just the thought of Sam out in the field, knowing just how dangerous that field could be, made him very nearly terrified. He wanted this entire bloody business done and out of his mind.

Foyle was almost out the door, recent events leaving him quite exhausted, he couldn't seem to catch a good nights sleep due to all of his worries, and then the phone rang. On any other day it wouldn't have even crossed his mind to ignore the incessant ringing, but the strain of this case had truly built up, and he desperately needed to call it a day and head home to toss and turn, attempting to sleep. But of course duty won out in the end. Picking up the receiver, Foyle took the call and felt his heart plummet. He hadn't felt this amount of helplessness since his late wife had passed. But he couldn't stop and draw parallels, time was of the essence! As Foyle ran to sounds the alarm so many thoughts flew rapid fire through his brain. Time. There wasn't enough time! 10 minutes. They couldn't be there in 10 minutes! A deep overwhelming sense of grief grasped at Foyle's heart, but he couldn't give in. Sam wasn't dead yet, and she hopefully wouldn't be for a good long while. They could get through this. They had to get through this. He didn't think he could stand to loose Sam.

There were so many forms of love in this world, and that was made all too evident to Foyle during this case. To imagine what feelings Rex had struggled with, trying to keep his love secret. And now Foyle had to re-evaluate his own 'relationship' with his driver, whom he considered a close friend. Was that all there was to it, just friendship, or were there deeper feelings beneath the surface? Whatever it was, Foyle had no business feeling it. For God's sake he was old enough to be her father! With a decisive slam to the case folder Foyle decided to stop all contemplation of the matter. It was completely absurd. He was simply exhausted, coming down from the adrenaline rush that was the past few days, and these feelings were simply brought about by a bout of protectiveness for his youngest officer. So that was that.


	2. War Games

A/N: This chapter is through Sam's eyes, and with this posting I should be starting 'The Funk Hole'. Enjoy!

**War Games**

Oh she could just throttle the man! Imagine the cheek! Promoting her to rank of 'baby-sitter'! But Sam had to admit, these little soldiers were quite adorable. Sam had always had a soft spot for children, a trait most likely acquired from watching over from playing mother hen over the children of her father's church. And these ruffians were not all that different from those fidgety youths. So it didn't bother her at all when Chief Detective Superintendent Foyle gave her a mischievous smirk and sent her on her way. In fact quite the opposite. That tongue-in-cheek attitude had lifted her spirits to a ridiculous high. Why was she affected so greatly by just a simple change in Foyle's normal distanced attitude? Obviously she was just being silly, and she had better things to worry about than her boss and the way he made her feel, that is to say...oh what is that to say?

There was just so much of it! Sam had seen how much scrap her 'busy bees' had been able to bring in, but she hadn't fully comprehended just how much paper rummage they had until she had to shift through it all with Detective Foyle and Sergeant Milner. Sam was extremely proud of her charges and of their contributions to the war effort, but of course she wouldn't admit to it now. Not when everyone seemed rather tried by the seemingly unending source of papers to sort through. Milner had chosen now to have a break of fresh air, leaving the rather musty and cramped shed quarters to Sam and Foyle. They were situated snug together, a large pile of perused papers gathered behind them, with still more to go. Sam heaved a heavy sigh, only to choke on the dust she inhaled. As she struggled to catch her breath, a comforting hand was laid against her back, trying to sooth her heaving. The coughing fit over, Sam turned to Detective Foyle, ready to thank him for the hand that was still occupying the space between her shoulder blades. Before she could get a word out, Foyle gave her a warm smile, indicating he knew what she intended to say and accepted the unspoken thanks, and it struck her as strange that they knew each other so well not to need words. Well, perhaps strange wasn't the word she would use, but instead of giving the exchange too much though she gave a winning smile to Foyle and went back to sorting through the mass of papers.

The single gunshot echoed through the air, a vacuum of silence following, where stunned police officers and others registered the noise. Soon there was noise and motion again, police officers rushing into the house, the sons shouts, and yet despite all of the commotion, Sam's eyes focused solely on Foyle as he calmly made his way to where she stood by the car. It was only her observation of him that stopped Sam from instinctively rushing in along with the officers, and what she saw scared her. He seemed completely untouched by the chaos around him, and his set features shocked her. He knew, he had gone into this house, knowing the conclusion, and had done nothing to stop nor slow it's happening. There was a part of Sam that was disgusted, but it was overwhelmed by the majority of her that was simply shocked. The Foyle of now was so wildly different from the Foyle digging through scrap, it was hard to reconcile the differences. She had heard the term 'hard' applied to his person, and had even been the receiver of a gruff or stern word a time or two, but on a whole Sam had no doubt that Foyle was a good man, but this display of stoic behavior threw her conviction into question. What else about this man did she not know?


End file.
